Endlessly and Forever
by Farewells
Summary: They sat beyond the pine trees, by the edge of autumn's reach; in which he was hopelessly in love with her, and she was engaged to someone else. [Snowbarry]
1. 52 days remaining

**A/n:** My attempt in some angst, in which Caitlin is engaged to Ronnie, and Barry is still hopelessly in love with her.

Somewhat inspired by my friend's reaction to the first episode of Flash. He recently got into the show and I accompanied him by re-watching the entire first season. During the scene where they tested Barry's speed, there was this little scene where he asked her something along the lines of, "why don't you smile more?" At that point, my friend looked towards me and said, "dude, they're totally going to bang."

I might leave it as a bittersweet one shot, but then again, who doesn't like happy endings.

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 **Chapter: 1**

 _How do you tell someone, that you love them with all of your heart?  
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They sat beyond the pine trees, by the edge of autumn's reach; he asked her that question one chilly November afternoon, out of the blue, like the clear violet skies, a welcoming reprieve in the year end's monsoon.

There was something different about Barry Allen that day, a brewing intensity that vividly contrasted his gentle eyes. Pebbles crunched lightly beneath her feet as an inviting breeze caressed her loosely tied hair; it rippled the surface of the lake, a glimmering dance between water lilies, the surface sent into hues of pale blue by the warm glow of sunlight.

The wind pulled much of her brown locks into a graceful flight; she noticed his lingering gaze as she pulled them down to her shoulders, trapping them underneath her palm. She looked towards the peaceful calm, her warm eyes twinkling beneath the growing shade.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"How do you tell a person," there was a soft noticeable tremor in his voice, a lasting second that she barely caught, "that without them, the skies are of a stark greyness, pale in comparison to the warmness of their touch."

"How do you tell that same person," he asked, "that with them by your side, there is nothing to fear from the universe's uncertainty, that they are the embodiment of your hope and your strength, the reason that you love."

She tried deciphering the intentions of his troubled heart, but as much as she wanted, she couldn't find the anchors that weighed him down.

"You could tell them, by telling them." She knew it wasn't much of an advice, but there was little else she could offer but a warm smile, following the reassuring squeeze of his shoulders, "there is nothing sweeter to a woman, than the yearning of a man's heart."

She realized they never talked much about their feelings to the other, she was never too sure of what was on Barry Allen's mind. The two of them were close, she knew beyond a doubt, and the thought of them being together as something more was a daydream she found herself once indulging in. But the circumstances have never allowed them to be more than friends, and as much as she loved Barry Allen, she was with Ronnie, and Barry Allen was in love with another.

"It isn't as simple as that." he whispered.

They were quiet for a long while; she started to fiddle with her engagement ring, it still felt uncomfortable around her fingers, an unnatural feeling she wasn't still quite used to.

"Your first step should be letting her know how much she means to you." she suddenly said, in the midst of remembering how excited Iris was when telling them of her received offer to intern at the Daily Planet, all the way over at Metropolis. "You might not change a person's decision, but you can always let them know how you feel."

"There are times when letting someone know, isn't always for the better," he chuckled lightly, sad and melancholically, "sometimes, it's better to just let things be. One of us would be happy, and even if I am no longer part of her happiness, as long as she is, I am too."

"But you're not, not really at all. Being happy for someone else does not equate to being happy for yourself." She gently nudged her fingers against his, it was almost painful to see him this way, to see him crumbling in acquiescence to never being with the person he truly loves. "You should be fighting for her, spending every waking minute of your life trying to show her how you actually feel."

She squeeze the back of his palm, their eyes met and she asked, "do you really love her?"

He nodded, "with all of my heart and a little more."

"Then why? Why won't you tell her?"

"Because it isn't my place to. I fell in love with someone I shouldn't, and I won't allow my mistakes to define us both." He looked away for a long while, and as his eyes returned to hers, she noticed the fleeting sadness he tried to mask, an illusive façade, but she saw right through it all.

Her palm reached upwards and pressed lightly against the side of his cheeks, "but you are hurting."

"It doesn't matter." His palm pressed onto hers, his eyes closed as he nestled in her touch.

She slid closer to him, their arms touching as she lightly rested her head onto his shoulders, "then let me help you, you know that I am always here for you, that there is nothing more I would like than to release that burden on your heart."

For another long while, the two remained in silence, their presence was all that remained; the beat of their hearts, in between the soft chirping of birds, the whispering of the ending autumn's breeze.

"I think…" she quietly said, "you should tell Iris how you feel. She isn't the sort of person that will-"

His laughter cut her sentence short. "Iris? Oh Caitlin... for someone with duo PhDs, you can really be incredibly dense sometimes."

Her head popped up from his shoulders, a visibly pink tint across her cheeks as she looked away. There was nothing worse than getting her assumptions wrong in a case like this, she felt utterly embarrassed.

"T-then who is it," she stuttered sheepishly, "is it Patt-"

"No." he interrupted her much quicker this time, there was a pause, followed by another long sigh. He opened his mouth as though to speak, to tell her who it was that plagued his every thought, but nothing came, he simply couldn't find the words.

"You have no idea how hard it is for me to put my feelings into words."

"If you can't think of what to say, how about you pretend I am her and tell me how you feel?" Caitlin felt that if she was unable to give him the proper advice that he needed, she could at least attempt to help with his confession. When she noticed how hesitant he seemed, she playfully knocked her shoulders against his, "I insist."

She watched as Barry Allen took a deep breath, his head tilting towards the skies above, as though trying to find the courage for what was needed. He remained in that position for the longest time, his eyes closed, his breathing slowed. When he spoke once more, it was done so quietly, like the settling mists upon an early morning, a gentle fleeting touch.

"I… I am sorry."

Her ears perked up at his apology, "you don't have to- "

"Because I shouldn't have fallen in love with you."

His eyes were on hers, a solemn glint against the darkening skies, so overwhelmingly earnest she lacked the strength to look away. She realized he was doing as she asked, but it felt almost too real, so much that her heart remained ignorant to her cause, a steady thump that grew with each spoken word.

"I tried to keep myself busy with things to do, with people to distract me, but you have no idea, no clue as to how exhausting it is to try and keep you away from my mind. You have the gentlest pair of eyes I've ever seen, the sweetest smile. I could lose myself in you, and each time I close my eyes, I see us together, I see each and every one of our moments, no matter how small.

In a few short weeks, you'll be gone, lost to me forever and all that remains of you in my heart, is a persistent throb that shall accompany each heartbeat of mine till the day I die. Because you see… well, I am just so insufferably in love… with you."

She was quiet until he finished, and even though she knew it wasn't meant for her, there was a constricting pang in her chest that accompanied the slight shivers running down her back. The breeze suddenly felt a lot colder than usual.

"You really do love her, don't you?" she asked him afterwards.

He nodded, "hopelessly and endlessly."

She stood up and deeply exhaled, making an awkward sort of face as she stretched her arms outwards. They sat too long in the same place, and he smiled at the sounds she was making as she attempted reaching for her toes without bending her knees.

"Hey Barry."

"Yeah?"

"Your feelings for her, they're truly beautiful." she brushed away a few wet leaves before sitting onto the overturned log beside him, "and I know it's annoying for me to be repeating this, but you should really tell her."

Of all the reactions he could have given her, she last expected him to burst out in laughter. But he did, heartily and loud, and when he eventually regained his composure, Barry Allen looked at her with a most exhausted smile.

"I did. Cait, I just did."

"What do you mean?"

When their eyes caught for the final time, it allowed her to see the swirling emotions beneath his gentle gaze, along with the love that had always been there and forever will. In that moment, along with the crushing shatter of her heart, Caitlin finally understood, and knew who it was that Barry Allen loved with all of his heart.

"Oh." she whispered, her hands clutching onto the front of her chest. It was agonizing, but she welcomed the pain, for it was her heart's indication that she loved him the same way.

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	2. 51 days remaining

**A/n:** Thank you for all of the reviews.

 **Uma FicWriter:** Thank you for the kind words. The chances of them doing that in season 3 are definitely low, but we can certainly hope!

 **katmerlos:** It's not a oneshot, but a short story (:

 **AReiss215:** I wasn't convinced by them at the start, but the more scenes they had, the more I fell in love with the pairing. The turning point for me was when they had to head down to the particle accelerator, but she was uncomfortable with it because of Ronnie's 'death', then for Barry to notice her discomfort and making up an excuse for them to head into the police department instead. Also the little scene afterwards when she sat alone, and he came up to quietly comfort her. I miss those scenes between them.

 **Lina:** I don't know about that, but even he saw the potential between those two on the FIRST episode!

 **justread14** : 10/10 reference.

P.s: No superpowers in this story.

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 **Chapter: 2**

They waited by the lonely bus stop located near the forest's edge; she sat onto one of the benches, he leaned against a sign by the side. Neither of them spoke, an uneasy silence that grew with each passing second. When the bus eventually came by, the two found themselves a cramped little corner by the back, seats that had their legs touching.

It was a long ride back to Central City.

Barry took the window seat, quietly watching as the pine trees passed them by. She sat silently beside him, her knees pressed together, her eyes downcast, her lips hidden by the scarf that circled warmly around her neck.

"How long?"

She softly asked as the settling twilight ebbed into the bus, the coming nightfall starting to paint the skies a looming black.

He turned towards her, "what?"

"How long… have you been in lov- I mean, how long have you had those feelings?"

The two conversed quietly, uninterrupted by the rowdiness of the other passengers around them; they were in a tiny world of their own.

"I definitely wasn't in love with you on day one, you were so mad at then," his eyes drifted upwards for a moment, as memories long passed emerged like insistent stars upon a darkening sky.

They met almost five years ago, when he was a junior forensic consultant at Central City's Police Department, and her, a biochemist from S.T.A.R. labs.

"On the subway," she smiled at the memory, "you took my briefcase by accident, the one containing all of my research notes. Then you dropped them all over the floor and spilt coffee on the cover, my entire year's worth of work. I was so mad."

"You hit me with the briefcase afterwards," he chuckled, "you were furious."

"Fuming."

"I did help you pick up all of the scattered pages."

"Only because you dropped them in the first place."

She certainly wasn't wrong, it was entirely his fault then, but had he not wrongly picked up her briefcase five years ago, he might not have met Caitlin Snow. They would have just been two unknowing souls, sitting across the other on a crowded subway, their meeting a fleeting moment in their lives, soon passed and quickly forgotten.

"I might not have met you otherwise." He looked towards the night sky, the stars were much clearer outside of the city. "We lived such separate lives, have you wondered about those unfortunate enough to miss a chance encounter with someone that could one day become so much more than just 'strangers'? Soulmates that might have just passed the other because they simply weren't paying attention."

"You picked up my briefcase. You certainly weren't paying attention.

They laughed, and then was quiet for a long while.

"I hate this bus." she muttered afterwards, fidgeting in her seat, seemingly unable to find a comfortable spot.

Slightly tilting to his other side, he allowed her a little bit more space to lean against him as his arm looped around her shoulder; she accepted the offer, readjusting herself to lie back against him, her head softly resting against the side of his chest. She snuggled into her little spot, eyes closed, exhausted from their day's trek.

"Hey Barry?" she whispered, "can we stay like this forever?"

The arm around her shoulders curled slowly towards her front, his palm lightly pressing onto her hair, a soft patting motion that he knew she liked. She sighed contently, her shoulders sliding forward, her head moving closer to his, coming to a stop just below his chin; he could smell her, intoxicatingly so.

As the night went on, the woman leaning against him soon fell into a tired rest; Barry Allen however, remained still for the remainder of their journey, unwilling to rouse her from her needed rest even when his shoulders started to become numb.

Another hour went by, and the stars above were soon replaced by the endless city lights, as skyscrapers took the place of towering pine trees. A loud grumble came from the below engines as the bus came to an eventual stop near the station opposite of her apartment.

"We're here."

She rubbed her eyes as he softly shook her awake, "I must have fallen asleep."

"Was I out long?" she asked.

He stretched with a tired yawn, "not really."

She got up from her seat, the two of them quickly grabbing their bags from the above luggage compartments before alighting from the leaving bus.

"Do you… want to come up for a bit?" she asked.

It was late, and with all of the unsaid emotions that hung between the two, he definitely shouldn't.

"Okay."

They entered her unlit apartment, putting their bags aside as she headed for a shower. Before long, she was in a pair of matching pajamas, her brown locks tied in a bun. He sat onto the edge of her bed as she slipped underneath the covers.

He dimmed the lights as he pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, as well as making fully sure her legs weren't peeking out from its bottom.

"Thank you." she said in between yawns, "can you…"

He could tell that she was trying her best to keep her eyes open, an attempt that was quickly failing.

"Don't worry," he moved himself onto the floor, his back leaning against the dresser as she turned towards him, their faces at eye-level, "I will stay with you till you fall asleep."

Just like all of the times they've done so in the past.

The blankets ruffled as her fingers reached for his. He grasped onto hers, a warm entwine.

It wasn't long before she fell asleep, a smile upon her lips.

As her fingers slipped away from his, Barry Allen got up onto his feet, a gentle kiss placed upon her forehead.

"Goodnight Caitlin Snow," he whispered, "I do truly love you more than you know."

As he fully turned off the lights and started to exit the room, he heard the faintest of a mumble.

"I… love you… too."

He turned, and she was still asleep, her calm breathing the only indication of her remaining presence, her mind somewhere only she knew.

An instinctive reply, or perhaps, something more.

It brought an undeniable smile to his lips.

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	3. 45 days remaining

**A/n:** I'm not painting Ronnie as the bad guy in this story, but he is certainly the reason why Caitlin isn't with Barry.

I would say that the two of them were highschool sweethearts, they were together when Barry first met Caitlin.

The only problem with Ronnie, is that he is a scientist before a husband. He would spent 8 months studying sand in the Sahara, come home to Caitlin for 2 weeks, then head out to the Artic to study the drifting patterns of icebergs for an entire year.

He is never there for her, and while some feelings fade, others grow.

Also, the titles of each chapter is the countdown to Caitlin and Ronnie's wedding date. Talk about suspense!

 **AReiss:** Yes you're right, she realized her feelings, but she is still engaged to Ronnie. People don't realistically break up weddings because of sudden "feelings". So we'll only have to see where that goes.

 **Stressess:** Thank you, and continuing is certainly the plan **!**

 **GellyRoll:** I love the 1x12 scene. I will include the "Stay with me till I fall asleep" part in EVERY story if I could. And yes, when I wrote the first chapter initially as a oneshot, it certainly could have taken place in the early 19th century from the way Barry was talking. What a hopeless romantic.

 **Eccacia:** Thank you for the review, I believe you have fully captured the mood of my story, perhaps even better than I have written it.

 **Lina:** He's currently studying the sexual behaviors of penguins up in the South pole (:

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 **Chapter: 3**

The one week where Caitlin came down with a cold and Barry took care of her.

Her doorbell rang persistently in the early morning, rousing her from the depths of a fitful night's sleep. Brushing a headful of dirty and unkempt hair aside, she went into a coughing fit before finding the strength to crawl out of her bed. She felt pathetic, and she didn't need a mirror to know she probably looked a lot worse than she was feeling.

Dressed in a pair of old baggy pajamas, she grabbed onto one of her blankets, wrapping it firmly around her before slipping into a pair of fluffy slippers and heading towards the source of commotion.

"Coming…" she muttered weakly between coughs, she was already starting to miss the warm embrace of her bed. She wondered who it was, were it to be the untimely arrival of an annoying salesperson, she would find herself turning most wrathful; it was too early and she felt like death.

"Morning," he greeted her with a huge beaming smile that widely contrasted her frowning features. The entering sunlight brightly accentuated his features, like a spotlight that shone blindingly upon Barry Allen from above.

"It's too bright," she complained, lifting her hands up to cover her eyes. "You're too bright." she seethed, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a dark hole and die.

Taking a step back, she allowed Barry Allen to enter her apartment, his nose quickly wrinkling at its dishevelled state. It was much alike to Caitlin herself, messy and disarrayed.

"When's the last time you got anything cleaned?" he asked as they headed into the living room.

"Is… it a bad sign if I can't remember?" she mumbled sheepishly before slumping onto the couch, her blanket still tightly wrapped around her, "other than to use the bathroom, I really haven't been up much."

She sniffled and started to rub her nose, it ended up in a shade of pink before she reached for a box of tissues.

"Have you been eating?" he asked with a hint of concern in his voice, "you don't look well."

"The bare minimum," she replied, "the doctor's instructions were to eat before taking my medicine. But my nose is too congested for me to taste anything, and I don't have much of an appetite to start with."

"Don't worry," he got up from his seat, "leave it all to me."

"What are you going to do?" she asked with a suspiciously raised eyebrow.

"Like I said," a mysterious grin crossed his lips, "leave it all to me."

"As for now," he helped her up onto her feet, ushering her in the direction of her room, "go take a warm shower. You have no idea how unattractive you look right now, and you'll certainly feel much better afterwards."

"Does that mean I am normally attractive?" she teased him in between her coughing fits.

"Perhaps, but unfortunately, you now look like one of those withered old witches from a Disney movie." He sat her down on the edge of her bed, she flopped backwards.

"Since I can't find a young virgin child for you to drain the energy of and sacrifice," he headed into the bathroom, "you'll just have to regain your strength this way."

"Barry Allen," she playfully grumbled as he left, "stop making fun of the sick and defenseless!"

He started to fill her bathtub with water, constantly checking the temperature to make sure it wasn't too scalding, he wanted it to be slightly above warm, just the way he knew she liked. When it was filled, he looked towards her shelves and took one of her many bath soaps, squeezing a little bit of it into the water before swishing it with his hand, forming a nice amount of bubbles and lather.

Heading back into her room when he was done, she was smiling at him from within a fortress of blankets and pillows. She complained when he dragged her out of her makeshift castle and into the bathroom.

"Do you need me here?" he asked suddenly and a little awkwardly, "I'm afraid you might fall unconscious in the bathtub and drown or something. I'll probably be named the prime suspect for the ensuring police investigation and charged for involuntary manslaughter because I was the one who set the bath up for you in the first place. That's probably five to ten years in Iron Heights Penitentiary."

"That's oddly specific," she grinned, "help me with the buttons?"

She turned her back towards him, allowing him to unbutton the one piece pajamas that she wore. He faced away as she slipped out of her dirtied clothing, standing before him in nothing but a pair of undergarments.

She poked at him with her fingers, finding herself quite enjoying how nervous he became, "why are you looking away from me, Barry?"

"Because it's inappropriate."

"You've seen me in a bikini before."

"That's different," he sighed exasperatedly.

"You're such a gentleman. I think you deserve a peek." She pressed herself against him, forcing him to run out of the bathroom as she exploded in laughter.

When she was done with a long and much needed shower, the first thing she noticed was a pair of clean clothing, nicely sorted out by her bed; a folded shirt, a pair of pants, socks and even a clean set of undergarments. She smiled at the image of Barry rummaging through her underwear drawer, trying to find an appropriate pair. It was too cute.

Quickly putting on the fresh set of clothing, she wrapped her hair in a towel before exiting the room, her eyes widening in surprise at the immaculately clean state of her apartment. Everything was neat and in order, the books were arranged alphabetically, her folders were stacked, even the curtains were changed. A recently used vacuum cleaner stood by the side, along with a few filled trash bags.

He must have cleaned up the entire place while she was taking a shower. Even she couldn't get her apartment to look as neat.

"You took long enough."

She turned towards him, noticing him dressed in one of her aprons, a bowl of steaming hot soup in his palm. Then, the smell drifted over and her legs felt weak all of a sudden. The delicious aroma assaulted her senses, almost immediately unclogging her irritated nostrils. For the first time in almost a week, her stomach growled hungrily to be filled.

She followed him over to her dining table, they sat opposite of the other as he placed the bowl in front of himself. She watched as he dug the spoon into the soup, scooping a generous amount before bringing it up to his lips, where he gently blew and cooled its temperature before extending his arm and offering it to her.

She wasn't sick enough to require his help in feeding herself, but she certainly wasn't complaining. She leaned towards him and parted her lips, swallowing the entire mouthful in a single gulp. It warmed her insides, comfortably so, causing her to gasp in pleasure at the amazing taste, "delicious!"

When he offered her another mouthful, she couldn't possibly refuse, along with another, then another, and another. It wasn't long before she finished the entire bowl, and if she cared a little lesser about her appearance and reputation, she would have picked it up and licked it clean.

"I… h-how, it's so…" she muttered, "how is it so damn good!?"

"Trade secret," he grinned smugly, obviously way too proud of himself, "grandma's recipe."

She followed him into the kitchen afterwards, leaning against the side while he started to wash the pots he had used to make her soup. As she noticed the intense concentration he had across his face, she couldn't help but to feel a visible flush growing upon her cheeks, along with the steady increasing thump of her chest. She could not tell whether it was from her cold, but there was something increasingly attractive about an apron donning Barry Allen doing her dishes.

She was actually blushing at the sight, how unbelievable.

Leaving the kitchen before she would inevitably say something embarrassing, she tiredly flopped down onto the sofa, her hands running contently across her stomach. He joined her not too long after, with two glasses of water in hand.

"Iced lemon tea for me, and warm honey for you." He placed her glass onto the coffee table in front of the couch, she noticed that the apron was gone, "I read somewhere that it helps with your throat."

"Thank you," she smiled, "wherever will I be today without you?"

"Probably dead in a ditch somewhere." he laughed.

She punched him lightly in the shoulders before starting to cough and reaching for the drink. It did help to sooth her throat's irritation. Barry Allen was certainly thoughtful.

"I did set myself up for that," she groaned in reply.

"You know," her tone changed when she spoke once more, "you never did answer my question that day."

"What question?" he asked.

"On the bus, the first question." It wasn't necessary to repeat what she had asked, they both knew what it was. When was it that he first fell in love with her?

He thought for a long while, all of the playfulness evaporating from his eyes as he answered her question, "it's… all of the little things that you do."

"The little things I do?"

"Yeap," he said, "it's not exactly that I woke up one day and found myself in love with you. It's not like a fairy tale story, but more… real? There's no one day or event, but the culmination of everything."

"It's all of the small things," he continued, "like the nights we stayed up talking, the hiking trips that we take whenever you have a day off."

"The way we could always finish each other's sentences," he smiled, "the way you're always here for me, and I am for you."

"The way your eyes light up whenever I show up at your office with coffee late at night, even the way you smile at my goofy tap dance routines." His eyes turned towards her, "especially the way you bite onto your lower lip when you're nervous or if you don't know what else to say."

She realized what she was doing and stopped immediately, looking away to hide her reddening cheeks.

"S-stop talking like that," she muttered, clearly getting embarrassed at the unfolding events, "since when have you turned into such a poet?"

"You did ask me a question," he laughed. "And it's all of the things we've been through, and all of you, which made me realize one day 'hey, I truly do love this person'."

"But you must know that I can't- … I can't…" she whispered, momentarily unable to find her voice.

"I know." he replied softly, and she could hear all of the longing in his voice, yet there was something else, a sad acceptance of his fate, "and it's alright."

"I…" her gaze returned to him, their eyes catching for the briefest of a moment. And in the next, something in Caitlin cracked, and of all the things that Barry Allen could have missed, he did not miss the softness of her lips crushed against his.

Then, it was over. She returned to her side of the couch, the fleeting moment all but passed. But the repercussions were not. She looked at him, and only when she felt his fingers softly brushing against the side of her cheeks, did she realize that she was crying.

It wasn't of sadness, but the heated trails represented something even she couldn't explain.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, for some reason, it felt like she wasn't referring to what she just did.

"So am I." his hands fell to his side, and for some other reason, it didn't seem like he was either.

They sat like that for the longest time.

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A few days later, Barry Allen fell sick, undoubtedly because of the day he spent with Caitlin. She went over to his place and took care of him instead, but luckily for her, his place wasn't in disarray nor was she required to cook for him.

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